Redshirts

said, coyly.
    “Recently,” Abnett said.
    “Maybe,” Duvall said again.
    “That hemorrhoid cream commercial,” Abnett said.
    “No,” Duvall said, flatly.
    “Wait!” Abnett said, pointing. “ Chronicles of the Intrepid . A few months ago. You and I did that scene together where we were being chased by killer robots. Tell me I’m right.”
    “It’s very close to what I remember,” Duvall said.
    “Thank you,” Abnett said. “I hate it when I forget people I’ve worked with. You’re still doing work with them, right? I think I’ve seen you around the set since then.”
    “You could say so,” Duvall said. “What about you?”
    “I’ve got a small character arc on the show,” Abnett said. “It’s only been a few shots through the season, and of course they’re killing off my character a couple of episodes from now, but until then it’s nice work.” He motioned at the condominium building. “Means I get to stay here through the year, anyway.”
    “So they’re going to kill you off?” Duvall asked. “You’re sure about that?”
    “That’s what the agent tells me,” Abnett said. “She says they’re still writing the episode, but it’s pretty much a done deal. Which is fine, since she wants to put me up for a couple of film roles and staying on Intrepid will just get in the way of that.”
    “Sad about the character, though,” Duvall said.
    “Well, that’s science fiction television for you, though,” Abnett said. “Someone’s got to be the red shirt.”
    “The what?” Duvall said.
    “The red shirt,” Abnett said. “You know, in the original Star Trek, they always had Kirk and Bones and Spock and then some poor dude in a red shirt who got vaporized before the first commercial. The moral of the story was not to wear a red shirt. Or go on away missions when you’re the only one whose name isn’t on the opening credits.”
    “Ah,” Duvall said.
    “You never watched Star Trek ?” Abnett asked, smiling.
    “It was a little before my time,” Duvall said.
    “So what brings you to my neighborhood, uh…,” Abnett said.
    “Maia,” Duvall said.
    “Maia,” Abnett repeated. “You aren’t looking at the condo that’s for sale in the building, are you? I probably shouldn’t say this, but I think you might want to look at other places. The last guy in that condo I’m pretty sure was making meth in the bathtub. It’s a miracle the entire building didn’t go up.”
    “Oh, I won’t be staying for very long,” Duvall said. “Actually, I came looking for you.”
    “Really,” Abnett said, with an expression that flickered between being flattered that an attractive woman came looking for him, and worry that the woman, who might be crazy, knew where he lived.
    Duvall read the flicker of expression perfectly. “I’m not stalking you,” she assured Abnett.
    “Okay, that’s a relief,” Abnett said.
    Duvall motioned with her head toward Dahl, still semiobscured by the hat and newspaper. “In fact, my friend over there is a big fan of yours and he just wanted to meet you for a second. If that’s okay. It would really make his day.”
    “Yeah, okay, sure,” Abnett said, still looking at Duvall. “What’s your friend’s name?”
    “Andy Dahl,” Duvall said.
    “Really?” Abnett said. “That’s so weird. That’s actually the name of my character on Chronicles of the Intrepid .”
    “That’s why he wants to meet you,” Duvall said.
    “And it’s not the only thing we share in common,” Dahl said. He walked up to Abnett, took off the cap and dropped the Times . “Hello, Brian. I’m you. In red shirt form.”
    *   *   *
    “I’m still having trouble with this,” Abnett said. He was sitting in the Best Western suite with the crew members of the Intrepid . “I mean, really really really having trouble with this.”
    “You think you’re having trouble,” Hester said. “Think about us. At least you’re not fictional .”
    “Do you know how unreal this is?” Abnett said.
    “We’ve been living with this for a while now, yes,” Dahl said.
    “So you understand why I’m freaking out about it,” Abnett said.
    “We could do another freckle check if you like,” Dahl said, referring to the moment, shortly after he introduced himself, where Abnett checked every visible freckle, mole and blemish on both of them to confirm that they matched exactly.
    “No, I’ve just got to sit with this,” Abnett said. Hester looked over to Dahl, quickly to